It was a cold, grey, overcast, cloudy, windy, uninviting day. So when I took a break for lunch, I read a book instead of going for a walk. One of the benefits of teleworking, I can crawl into bed during my lunch break and nap, or curl up with a good book and my two cats.
By the time I signed off for the day, I was in need of fresh air and time in nature, so I bundled up and braved the cold. It was dark now, no stars peeking through. I walked around the yard, then headed down to the river to walk the labyrinth. As I stood in the centre, giving thanks and opening my heart to receive, I took in the sight before me: The sky, a gradient of dark blue at the top to light blue as it reached the horizon with clouds of light pollution. Silhouettes in all shapes and sizes of evergreens, and the odd deciduous tree poking out. Snow covered banks, and the river. The river, frozen earlier, a portion of it open the last few days, once again frozen, leaving a dark trail in the centre of two white banks.
It was picturesque. I was sorry I didn’t bring my camera and tripod with me, then in that split second, I had the thought – why not paint it.
Of course, ego was quick to rule that idea out. Yet, I stood watching the view, enjoying it, soaking it in, taking note of the shadows and highlights. Giving thanks, I continued on my journey out of the centre of the labyrinth and back to the house.
Now was as good as a time as any to work on my painting of the day. In the spirit of 365 days of creativity and a painting a day, I thought, what the hey, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.
Not completely what I saw, but close enough, especially working with watercolour paints.
The words I heard on my way out the labyrinth tonight were: trust and believe.